I got stuck here a bit late on Friday trying to help out some clients who were flying back to the east coast but thought their flight had been canceled because of the weather. Sometimes I think no-one should be allowed to travel between, oh I don’t know, October and April. I’m just so sick of people whining because they’re flights have been canceled due to storms. And they always act so damn surprised and expect me to do something. I can rebook them on another flight if there is one, but I can’t make a canceled flight be un-canceled.
I more or less made it out of here on time Friday night, which allowed me to do a quick run to the Jackson Park Safeway for food. Wednesday was pizza and Thursday was one of our occasional oyster orgies, so I was due to cook. I brought home pork chops and served them with rice i.e. butter delivery system.
As you may remember, I was not in great emotional shape all week regarding the job to the extent that I was telling Carmen the cleaning lady that I wanted to come and clean with her. This of course is utter bullshit. As much as I hate my job and don’t think I do it well, physical labor is probably not me thing either. It’s just a signal of the despondency that I feel about the situation here, even when it’s not horrible. So my goal for this weekend was to get my shit together, at least to the point where I could get up and do my job without wishing for drugs to numb the pain.
By the way, the THING that makes me write the “moody” fics has nothing to do with my job or in case anyone is interested, my husband. It’s a completely arbitrary situation that I’m allowing to eat at my guts and make me lash out via fic every time the triggering event happens. I gotta say I appreciate the support and comments for the stories themselves, but I really have other things I'd rather be writing.
Saturday, we slept in and I worked on some of my happier, if not exactly fluffy writing projects, as well as a few beta assignments. I wanted to go see “Last King Of Scotland” but when I mentioned that “Miss Potter” was still playing at Opera Plaza, hubby was all over it. It was sunny, although brisk (as in shit, I should have worn another layer) so we walked over for the matinee.
Things I could live without indefinitely: Renee Zellweger & whimsy, separately together or in any combination. Things I can tolerate, Ewan McGregor, although I prefer him contemporary and full frontal as opposed to Edwardian, abundantly mustached and slightly doofy. Things my slash glasses made me see: Renee had way more chemistry with Emily Watson than she did with Ewan or the bunnies for that matter. Also Emily was wearing a shirtwaist and tie that practically screamed “Hi there, I’m a lesbian,” and her acting was by far the best in the movie, with Bill Paterson’s muttonchops coming in a close second.
I was not terribly moved when tragedy struck. It’s hard to be sorry for someone who’s making enough money as a author to buy a bunch of farms and is about to land another hunk.
It was a very pretty movie, with gorgeous vistas and nice period costumes and of course whimsical animation. And Renee Zellweger.
We came home and finally watched “The State Within” which has been sitting on my Tivo for nearly, if not over a month. We went through the whole thing in one night. God, I love British Television. Canon slash. Full on man-kissing. Whew! Sharon Gless as Dick Cheney. Intricate plotting. Snarky dialogue. AMBIGUITY. Not as hot hetsex, but at least pretty people having it. And oh yeah, people who can act. Nigel Bennett, who I loved back in his “Forever Knight” days as Lacroix. He’s not particularly sexy anymore, but man can he do Eeeeeevil. I was worried about getting to sleep cos I had to get up early early for the “Emerald Across the Bay Run”.
Nerves got me up just before the alarm when off and I was out the door by 615AM. Parts of my neighborhood are lovely, but not 16th and Mission at 6:15 in the morning. I probably could have pushed my own departure another ½ hour, but I didn’t want to risk not getting to Aquatic Park in time for the shuttle to Sausalito. Cold cold cold. Long sleeves and a hoodie, but I was really cold. Got down there in plenty of time. Got my number pinned on. Got on the shuttle line. Listened to a woman having a cell-phone conversation which included complaints about how her boyfriend doesn’t want to have sex as much as she does. I could have sworn I heard her say “yesterday we fucked for an hour.” I wanted to inquire as to the reality of that statement and also the apparent belief people have that if they’re talking on a cell phone, you can’t hear them.
The run itself was good. They changed the route so that we got to the hill from hell sooner. Since I knew I was only walking the hill anyway, that was OK for me. I think it’s better for the real runners to be a little more warmed up before they tackle it, but what do I know. I was sort of bummed out by the change because we didn’t go around “Murray Circle” which is always a time I think of my father. (His name was Murray.)
Anyway, up the hill, over the bridge, through the Presidio, back to Fort Point (to make up the miles we didn’t do on Murray Circle) back through Chrissy Field to Marina Green to Aquatic Park. I think my official time is under two hours, but I’m not sure. I’ll check the website and post it later in case anyone’s interested.
After getting my t-shirt, I got the hell out of there. Unfortunately being kind of exhausted and dehydrated, I got on the wrong bus (47 instead of 49) so it took longer to get home as I had to get off and get another bus. Hubby had already gone out for bagels, so I treated myself to a quesadilla suiza from Pancho Villa Taqueria.
Later that night…
Unfortunately, I couldn’t resist checking the computer before I left for karaoke and immediately had to write another moody fic. Took my notebook to the Mint and worked on it between songs, while hanging out with Thomas and Big Tony who was all over me in his usual huggy, non-boundary comprehending way.
My song list for last night was
Games That Lovers Play-Wayne Newton
Young Girl-Gary Puckett and the Union Gap
I thought they all went pretty well. Nothing that made want to slink away in humiliation.
Tony did one of his old signature numbers, “Lightning Crashes” by Live. I can remember people walking out when he did it, just because of that “placenta” lyric. I don’t think anyone did that last night.
I got home around 930PM-ish to type up the new fic. It actually typed out at exactly 200 words the first time, which is freaky. Michelleann68 was around for insta-beta and I was able to post and do links before going to sleep. The pain that’s causing this crap is completely selfish, extremely irrational, and totally gut-wrenching to me while it’s happening. But once I’ve posted, I’m ok, at least until the next round. And I am, I’ll re-iterate, not only writing misery. The femslash drabbles don’t come out quite as angsty and I do have some batshit crazy crack!fic in the works, as well as my remix assignment.
Thanks for reading. I love you guys.
Edited because I do know the difference between their and they're even if my fingers don't.